


Little Did You Know All My Mistakes are Slowly Drowning Me

by sleepyfaceandsnark (Sleepyfaceandsnark)



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Grief, M/M, Sad, death mention, past death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:37:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5980303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepyfaceandsnark/pseuds/sleepyfaceandsnark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>request a continuation of "You’re Turning Away Like You Hate Me. Do You Hate Me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Did You Know All My Mistakes are Slowly Drowning Me

[PART 1](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5973910)

 

 

Months later Tom and George still don’t see each other. 

When Tom’s mom dies he cries for a week. He locks himself in his room wanting so badly to be comforted by the one person he knew could. But that person no longer wants him, or so Tom told himself. 

George doesn’t attend the funeral. Afraid it’d hurt Tom even more to bury his mother and see him there as well. He voluntarily goes on a errand for his father, as an excuse. He thinks of Tom and his mother the whole 3 days he’s gone. He pays his respects later in the week, finding Tom’s father and apologizing for not being there. 

“It’s alright, son,” He tells George. The man smiles at George in a fatherly way. “Haven’t seen you around here much lately.”

“Yeah,” George looks down at his feet. “Just been real busy, sir.”

Tom’s father nods. 

“Tom misses you.” 

George looks up sharply, not sure he heard right. 

“Not that the boy would ever say it,” Mr. Fairfax says lightly. Then his face turns solemn. “There’s been a sadness in him lately. Even before his mother passed.” 

George bites his lip and nods. He swallows unsure if he should ask. “Is he…home?” 

Mr. Fairfax shakes his head. “Nah. Sent him into town. Wanted to get him out of the house for a little bit.” 

George sighs. “I should get going. I’m real sorry about Mrs. Fairfax.” 

“Thank you, son. I’ll tell Tom you stopped by?”

“No, no that’s alright. I’ll see him around.” George gives Tom’s dad a polite wave and leaves the house.

He decides to head into town on the off chance he happens to make it there before Tom heads home. 

He wanders around town for a little while asking the occasional person that knows him if they’ve seen Tom. Most of them saying no and some saying they saw him earlier in a certain shop. 

George eventually gives up and decides to head back home, he’ll visit Tom later in the week. 

When he’s about half a mile out of town he sees bright red hair in the distance. 

“Tom,” he states to himself as he darts in the direction the redhead was going. 

“Tom,” he calls out when he’s closer to him but Tom keeps walking. Maybe he didn’t hear. “Tom,” George says again, moving in front of him. 

Tom’s eyes still seem to keep in contact with the ground and George moves closer in front of him, placing his hands on Tom shoulders. 

“Tom, hey. It’s George.”

Tom glances up at him quickly his eyes lost in grief. George swallows. 

“I just wanted to see you and tell you-”

“Two different kinds.” Tom says as he looks back down. 

“What?”

Tom moves his hands up and shows what he’s been holding. “Two different flowers. I don’t…I don’t know which one she liked. She always told me ‘Thomas go pick out some flowers.’ and she’d tell me which but I can’t remember now. I can’t remember.” He looks up at George desperately. 

George looks at Tom sadly, he puts his hand softly on Tom’s cheek and Tom closes his eyes. “It’s okay, Tom. It’s okay.”

Tom opens his eyes again and looks at George. He breathes in a shaky breath. “I can’t…I miss her.” 

Tears roll down Tom’s face. George pulls him into his chest and Tom falls into him, letting everything out.. 

“I know, Tom,” He holds Tom, rubbing his back and petting his hair. “I know.” 

They stay like that for a while until George offers to walk Tom home. Tom agrees and they take off, stopping at Tom’s mother’s grave first. 

“The flowers are beautiful, Tom. Both of them.”

“Yeah?” Tom asks, wiping his eyes. 

“Yes. She’ll love them.” Tom gives George a small smile then walks to place them where his mom laid to rest. 

They walk back to Tom’s house but Tom hesitates to go in. 

“Was this just a fluke thing? A …coincidence?” 

“What?”

“You running into me. It was an accident. And now we go back to what we were yesterday. Forgetting each other not being around each other.”

“It wasn’t an accident. I went looking for you.” 

Tom looks at George confused. “You did?”

“Yes. I wanted to talk. I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“For everything. For leaving you. For not being there for you when you needed me to.”

Tom nods his head and looks at the ground. George moves his hand under Tom’s chin to lift his  head back up. 

“I wanted to tell you I miss you,” he continues. “And I could never _never_ forget you even if I wanted to.” 

Tom’s eyes look into George’s staring through his soul.  George breaks it quickly to look around them. When he’s sure no one is watching he leans in to give Tom a sweet, assuring kiss. “I love you, Thomas Fairfax and I don’t ever want to leave you again.”

Tom smiles for the first time in months. “You mean it?”

“Of course.” George states. 

Tom breaths in and pulls George back in, wrapping his arms around the slightly taller man. 

Tom invites George inside and when it gets dark Tom’s father insists George spend the night, noticing the difference in Tom with being around George again. He wasn’t sure why the boys stopped hanging out but he was glad they were back by each other’s side again. 

They make a fire and sit by it till it goes out, they tell stories. Tom was great at making up stories, if George didn’t know better he’d insist Tom would be a great writer in the future. 

George stays in Tom’s bed, once again wrapped around his lover, both happier then they’ve been in a long, long time. 


End file.
